


Lost in and on Love

by immortalbanner



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: 19th Century, BAMF Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Blood, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, Oblivous Booker, POV Booker | Sebastien le Livre, Pre-Canon, Religious Discussion, i mean it's this fandom so it's in like half the fics, or as i like to call it: feral nicky, references to hanging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:01:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27132857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/immortalbanner/pseuds/immortalbanner
Summary: It took Booker far, far too long for him to realise two of his new friends were lovers.
Relationships: Booker | Sebastien le Livre & Joe | Yusuf al-Kaysani & Nicky | Nicolo di Genova, Booker | Sebastien le Livre/Booker | Sebastien le Livre's Wife, Jean-Pierre le Livre/Original Male Character, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 13
Kudos: 360





	Lost in and on Love

**Author's Note:**

> I mean it when I say this was meant to be more...funny. But if I let something go long enough then suddenly things get sad. So, here. 
> 
> Also in a not at all shocking turn of events this is longer than I thought it would be. I hope you enjoy! It was fun writing from Booker's POV. I find him to be a really interesting character.

It had been three years since Sébastien should’ve died.

He hadn’t said anything about it to Adele, he just told her he’d deserted the French army and she didn’t ask many questions about it. More than anything, she’d seemed happy to finally have him back.

He’d been with the army for so many years he’d missed so many years of his sons growing up. His eldest, Gabriel, had gotten married a year before his return. He’d told him he had wanted to wait but he wasn’t sure if he’d survive to make it home for so long.

His second oldest, Adam, had gotten engaged a year after his return. He thanked his lucky stars he had been able to be there for his wedding.

Jean-Pierre, his youngest had barely entered his teenage years when he’d came home. It had been so long since he’d seen him he looked at him like he was a stranger. The last thing he’d remembered about him was leaving for a war when he was still young, barely seven years old. He was stiff in his arms when he hugged him.

He’d tried to go back into a normal life. He’d built up a decent clientèle in the area of forgery. Most of the time he got his word out through word of mouth. He was good at what he did and it gave his family food.

He was outside a bakery when he first saw them.

He had to get some passports finished for a Dutch couple. He’d promised to get it done soon and they’d promised to pay well.

Three people stood above him as he worked. Two men and a woman. He gave them a curious look and it took a few moments to hit him that he recognised them.

He set the papers aside and stood up. He stared at them. He opened his mouth to speak but he only gaped at them.

“You have questions, I’m sure,” the woman said in French, her accent perfect but not one of a native speaker.

“I— yes.” He’d had questions for years. Why he’d woken up and survived hanging had been his first and most desperate one. He’d heard his own neck crack so many times that at a point, he had to accept he wasn’t going to die.

“We’ll make introductions quick, I’m Andromache the Scythia. But you can call me Andrea.”

Next to her, the fairer of the two men spoke. “Nicolò di Genova. I go by Nicholas these days.” He had a thick Italian accent as he spoke French.

The final man spoke, “Yusuf al-Kaysani. Joseph works too.” He couldn’t exactly place his accent, although he could see he wasn’t a man from Europe.

He looked between the three of them. “Sébastien le Livre. I don’t really go by anything else.”

“We’ll figure something out, don’t worry,” Andrea said like it was an inevitable fact. Nicholas and Joseph exchanged a smile at her words.

“Is there anywhere else we could talk?” Andrea asked.

He stared at them a few moments longer before he nodded. “Uh, yes.” Adele was visiting a friend that day and Jean-Pierre was with his own friends, leaving the house empty.

They followed him on the short walk home. A million thoughts were running through his head. They had been ever since he had been able to get the noose off of his neck. He’d fallen to the ground with a thump and stared at the sky, wondering if God had rejected him.

When they reached his home, he asked them if they would like tea. The three simply shook their heads. Andrea sat in the arm chair and crossed her legs, leaning over her lap as Joseph and Nicholas occupied the couch. They sat as if they were old friends of his.

Sébastien remained standing as he looked at the three of them. “Who are you? Why are you in my dreams? Why can’t I… why didn’t I die from hanging?”

“To put it simply, we’re immoral. Mostly, at least,” Andrea said. “In essence, we cannot die and our wounds heal.”

The word ‘immortal’ hit him oddly. He’d already guessed that on his own but it was still difficult to believe. He hadn’t tested the theory for himself though, just in case he didn’t come back that time.

“And the dreams?”

“We dream each other until we meet,” Joseph said with a shrug like it was the most mundane thing in the world.

That made his mind go to the person who was missing. A woman screaming in desperation as she drowned over and over. Something that flashed in his mind every night between his vision on the three people in front of him.

He decided against asking them about her. They would probably bring her up and if they didn’t, maybe it was best not to ask.

“Why do we dream each other?” he asked, looking at the three of them.

“I think it’s because we’re meant to find each other,” Nicolas said with a simple shrug, his eyes straying to Joseph for a moment before returning to him. “But we don’t have all the answers, only guesses. I like to think we’re like this to put some good into the world.”

The implication that they were some kind of vigilantes was in the air. “So what does that have to do with me? Why are you here?”

Andrea stood up. “We’re offering you to join us. You don’t have to right now but I feel you will want to eventually, the years loneliness will eat you up if you don’t.”

He looked at her, realising she had a sad look in her eye. He looked back at Joseph and Nicholas who exchanged a look that held a thousand words.

“How… how exactly old are you all?”

Something in Andrea’s eye died at that question.

Nicholas and Joseph exchanged another look, then a small nod between them. Joseph looked at him. “Nicholas and I met in the Crusades. The first one. So we’re a little over seven-hundred, though there is three years between us.”

If he had to guess the two looked like they were in their early thirties. They’d died so young, too young. He’d known men who went into battle younger but even at thirty, it was much too young. They would’ve have to leave behind young children if they’d had any.

Then he’d realised exactly what he’d said. “The… the Crusades?”

Nicholas gave a smile. “Different sides if you were wondering.”

“I’m sure he could guess,” Joseph teased which got a nudge by the elbow back against his side. “We also killed each other.”

“Many times. That was how we’d found out we couldn’t die.”

The two talked about it so casually that it was almost like they were talking about something more simple from childhood. Like how they would catch frogs while playing by a pond.

He looked at Andrea. She just shrugged. “Old. Much older than those two.”

“But how old?” he asked.

“I don’t remember, you lose track after a while. Just old, that’s all you really need to know.”

He stared at her and then looked at Nicholas and Joseph, hoping to find his answer there.

Instead, he got an apologetic smile from Nicholas. “She didn’t tell us either, so we don’t know.”

He nodded slowly. “So you’re telling me… I won’t die? That I can’t die?”

Andrea gave a deflated sigh. “Well, yes and no. One day our wounds stop healing. One of us did die a long time ago, centuries before Nicholas and Joseph were even born. But for now? No, you won’t.”

“What about old age? Surely that’s possible?”

She shook her head. “We stop aging too.”

He looked at her then back at Joseph and Nicholas again. “Why? Why did this happen?”

Andrea gave him an apologetic look. “I’d love to give you an answer but I still haven’t figured it out. I hadn’t even known what the dreams meant when they’d started.” She waved a hand to Joseph and Nicholas. “They’re the lucky ones to have at least had someone carry it with from the start.”

He looked at Joseph and Nicholas again. The idea that they’d fought on opposite sides, killed each other, and became friends was so much to hear. Andrea not even remembering how old she is was even more.

“Why are you here? To give me answers?”

Andrea gave a nod. “Yes. But we’re also asking you to join us.”

He blinked at them. “What do you exactly mean by that?”

“We’re a small army. We fight for what we think is right. That’s how we’ve chosen to use this for centuries. I’m asking you to join us because you will want to eventually.”

He shook his head. “I have a family. I can’t just leave.”

“I know but you will also have to watch everything around you die. You will stay the same and people will notice. We do our best to not expose ourselves because there’s always going to be people who want to take advantage of it.” Her tone has something apologetic in it.

He shook his head. “I really can’t leave my family, I’m sorry.”

Joseph stood. “We know it’s hard, Sébastien but it’s the way it has to be. We had to leave our families too. It’s an unfortunate part of the reality.”

His eyes leveled with him. “So you left your wife and children behind with no questions?”

Joseph blinked, gaping slightly. “Well, no because I didn’t have a wife or children. Nor did Nicholas. But we still had families of course.”

He looked away from him. What would a man who didn’t have his own family know. “I can’t leave. Not yet.”

Andrea’s eyes softened in a way that made his heart sank. “You’re going to have to watch them all die. You’re going to outlive all of them. Do you want that?”

He was silent for a moment before shaking his head. “No but I still can’t leave them.”

Joseph, now sitting back down, and Nicholas exchanged a look. They’d been doing that for most of the time they’d been here. Maybe that was what seven-hundred years gave two people.

Andrea sighed. “We’ll come by every few years and when you’re ready to leave, you can come with us. It will either be that or loneliness. And trust me, you do not want to be alone with this.”

She still had a tone that told him it was all inevitable. “Okay.”

He heard the sound of the front door opening and turned to see Adele walking in. She stopped in the doorway, noticing the three guests.

“Sébastien, you should’ve told me we were having guests,” she said and smiled at the three.

He looked at his wife and realised that of the two of them, she was going to die instead of him leaving her in war.

He was going to lose all of this in only decades and he will stay the same.

He must’ve been staring at her for too long because she gave him a smile that broke him out of it. “Are you going to introduce me to our guests?”

He blinked and looked back at the three. He noticed how Joseph nudged Nicholas’ side as if to prompt something. Nicholas stood up and held out his hand.

“It’s very nice to meet you Mrs. le Livre. I am Nicholas and this is my wife, Andrea and our friend Joseph.”

Wife? He looked between the two and absolutely nothing indicated a marriage. Neither were even wearing rings. Had they neglected to mention it or was it a lie? He looked at Joseph hoping he’d find an answer there but he was just smiling at Nicholas.

She shook her hand. “Please, Adele is fine. What brings you to our home?”

“We came by as we had a job offer for Mr. le Livre. In Rome. Which he has politely declined.”

She frowned. “A job?”

“Yes but as I said, he politely declined.” His eye met his own.

He gave a small nod. “Yes, I don’t need to leave France. I’m happy here.”

Adele looked at him curiously. “Okay. If you’re sure.”

He nodded. “I’m sure.”

He looked back at the trio and saw how their faces had gone blank. He’d realised that in a way, it hadn’t been a lie.

Adele insisted on making the three tea before they left. They didn’t decline the offer and he was left alone with the three when she moved to the kitchen.

Andrea had an almost sad look in her eye. “Offer still stands.”

He frowned. “Will it make things easier?”

“Yes.”

He paused before shaking his head. “I still can’t leave her.”

She watched him before she nodded. “Okay. But we’ll be here when you’re ready.”

Adele came back with the tea which Nicholas and Joseph happily took with bright smiles on their faces, sitting together on the couch again.

He leaned towards Andrea as Adele was distracted by her conversation with the two. “Why did you lie about being married?”

“It’s a good cover for when we need it. When you join us you can pretend to be my husband instead, Nicholas hates it.”

He suppressed a laugh as he looked back at Adele.

It was going to hurt so much when he lost her.

* * *

Despite his initial rejection, Nicholas, Joseph, and Andrea still came by France every few years as they said they would. They never pressured him to leave his family too soon, simply stopping by as if they were old friends.

A lot could happen in a few years. Adam and his wife had left to England, saying there were more opportunities there.

Gabriel and his wife had divorced. Gabriel had cheated with another woman, leaving him being left by both women. He didn’t leave the house all that much anymore.

Jean-Pierre had yet to get married and Sébastien had yet to see him with a woman. He’d started working with a tailor which he’d seemed to enjoy immensely. They had repaired their relationship after years of separation.

Adele was the same, the spark of joy in his life. Everything felt like how they were meant to be when he was around her.

During one of the immortals usual visits, he offered to take Nicholas and Joseph to a local tavern frequented by local men, similar to a gentlemen’s club. The two agreed, despite Andrea’s annoyance of being left alone even with the offer to spend time with Adele and her friends.

Jean-Pierre came along and brought a friend of his own. He’d introduced himself as Louis.

Joseph was on his third game of poker while he stood with Nicholas on the sidelines with a whiskey. Jean-Pierre and Louis had gone off to sit at the bar.

Nicholas watched as Joseph played in silence. Sébastien half expected him to hover around the table and give Joseph clues. Although his theories of the two being able to read the other’s mind were probably untrue.

“Either of you boys want to join?” One of the men asked as Joseph folded his hand with a sigh, the man taking his winnings happily.

Nicholas gave a wave. “No thanks. Joseph has lost enough of our money on his own.”

Sébastien laughed. “The wife will definitely not want me losing our money. Joseph is lucky he doesn’t have his own.” He was surprised that Joseph was still playing at that point. He’d lost enough money for himself to quit at that point.

Nicholas gave a snort next to him while Joseph gave him a smile he wasn’t sure what held. “I could go for one more round.”

“Joseph,” Nicholas said with what almost sounded like a sigh.

One of the men laughed. “You could luck out this time.”

Nicholas says something in Italian as a look of consideration crossed Joseph’s face. Joseph frowned. “You sure?”

Nicholas nodded. Joseph stood up and Nicholas replaced where he sat, hands brushing shoulders for only a second.

He looked at Joseph curiously as he came to his side. “What was the point of that?”

He just gave him a smile.

He wasn’t sure what he could call what happened. The main issue with Joseph was that the man couldn’t bluff to save his life. If he had a bad hand, his brows would crease. If he had a good hand, his brows rose to his hairline. Nicholas was the opposite.

It was as if his face was made of marble. It remained in one expression as if it wasn’t able to form another.

Joseph kept his eyes on Nicholas. His teeth were biting his lower lip. The dealer set down the community cards after the players had put in their bets. Despite Nicholas griping about Joseph losing their money, he went all in.

Most of the men folded, leaving Nicholas with one man who had gone all in too. The man set down his cards, a huge smile on his face as he showed a flush.

Sébastien held his breath until Nicholas set his cards down, showing a royal flush.

Next to him, Joseph let out a big laugh as Nicholas took his winnings. “Ya amar, you are truly wonderful.”

He let himself laugh as the rest of the men grunted in annoyance. “Grazie, gentlemen, I very much enjoyed that,” Nicholas said, his face showing emotion for the first time, a massive grin crossing his face.

He looked at Joseph curiously. “You guys planned that, didn’t you?”

Joseph smiled at him as Nicholas came back to his side, counting his winnings. “Well, I won’t tell you all our strategies.” He turned his smile back to Nicholas for a moment. “But it worked.”

They found Jean-Pierre and Louis at the bar. They seemed to be deep in conversation, large grins on their faces.

Sometimes he did think he should leave with the immortals so he wouldn’t have to watch himself outlive his family. But times like this reminded him why he stayed. If he’d left, he’d lose nights like this. Adam might have children, Gabriel might find love again, Jean-Pierre might get married himself.

He looked back at Joseph and Nicholas and saw how they were watching the two at the bar.

“I can’t leave them. Not yet.”

They looked back at him and nodded. “We understand,” Nicholas said.

“We never said these would be easy. It’s… not going to be easy. We’ll give you as much time as you need. But they will start to notice you haven’t aged.”

He nodded at them. “I know. And I know I can’t tell them. But I need this time.”

“And you can have it. Cherish it. We weren’t able to,” Joseph said and looked at Nicholas. “We were lucky to have each other through it all.”

Nicholas nodded, meeting his friend’s eye. “More than.”

He watched the two, and something passed between them he couldn’t quite place. The same silent communication that he’d always noticed between them.

When he returned to Jean-Pierre after Joseph and Nicholas said they were going to turn in for the night, they were still in deep conversation. He sat down next to Jean-Pierre.

“You two going to spend the whole night here?” he teased. They looked at him, almost startled by his presence.

Jean-Pierre shrugged. “Didn’t feel the need to do anything else.”

Louis smiled. “We enjoy each other’s company enough.”

“Well, I’m sure you two have enough fun at taverns, right? Lots of nice girls there.”

He only smiled in return. “I’m sure. Where’d your friends go?”

“Went to turn in for the night. They’re leaving for Russia in the next few days.”

Jean-Pierre nodded. “It’s weird. I always feel like they look the same when I see them.”

He gave him a weak smile. “Maybe they just have good genes.”

He laughed. “Maybe.”

He turned back to Louis and they continued whatever conversation they were having.

He’d realised that it would be inevitable for him to notice he hadn’t started to age as he should.

* * *

The thing about death was that it was almost so easy.

Giovanni was the first to die. He’d received a telegram from his wife, telling him there had been an automobile accident. She didn’t give details and said she’d send his body back to France so he could be buried there.

Adam followed not too long after. He’d shut himself off a long time ago after his divorce. He’d gone months without seeing him before Jean-Pierre had been the one to find him in a death of the same method that should’ve been his own.

Adele had died of tuberculosis. It felt almost like a joke when it happened. He had been silent for most of the funeral while Jean-Pierre had spent the entire time sobbing.

More years went by and everyone around him got older. It was at the point where people were starting to notice he wasn’t. He stayed home most of the time, thinking that if he didn’t show his face too much so less suspicion could be raised.

He couldn’t hide it from one person though.

“But _how_ dad?”

Hospitals were easily his least favourite place. They were always so cold no matter what time of year it was. Being around so many sick people brought down his mood as low as it could go.

Looking at his son dying felt like he was drowning.

Maybe he should’ve listened to Andrea, Joseph, and Nicholas from the beginning.

“I told you, Jean-Pierre, I don’t know.”

He shook his head. “I always thought I was imagining it. Or that I was crazy. But you look like you did when you came home from war.”

His eyes down-casted. It was odd remaining in the same state for so long. Humans aged, it was the natural order of things. But he was frozen in time while everything else around him grew old.

He’d never told him he should’ve died and they wouldn’t be here having this argument.

“Dad,” his voice broke and sounded so defeated as he said it. “Please. If you love me, please tell me.”

His eyes stung as he looked at his son. There was so much pain and desperation in his eyes.

He’d already lived a long time. He was in his seventies. Bones were meant to start going frail and his hair was meant to grey. Instead, he was stuck at forty-two, as his son who stood at the same age lay there dying of a disease he barely understood.

His son started to cough before him. He reached for his water and held it out to him in hopes it’d do something. Jean-Pierre slapped the water out of his hand in anger, which was when he knew he should leave. He did his best not to listen to the despair in Jean-Pierre’s voice as he called after him.

When he left, he passed Louis who had been standing outside, wanting to give the two privacy.

Jean-Pierre never married, and had started a tailor business with Louis. Because of that, Louis knew what he was.

He looked at him with eyes that held more pain than he’d ever seen from him. The same hurt and despair Jean-Pierre had.

“Please, can you just tell him? I… I can’t lose him.”

He sounded so desperate and all he could give him was the truth.

“Like I’ve always said, I don’t know. I would if I could but I don’t, Louis.”

Tears started to fall down his face. He shook his head and his eyes casted down. “I love him, I can’t lose him. _Please_.”

He gaped for a moment as the words hung in the air. He swallowed the lump in his throat. “I’m sorry. I really am.”

He looked back up at him and there was something like rage in his eyes.

He let himself through the doors and he watched him go to Jean-Pierre’s side.

* * *

He was alone for three years before the three people came back.

He had spent the last few years drowning in all the alcohol he could get his hands on. He’d drank a full bottle of vodka and had probably died briefly whilst doing so. He wasn’t sure, it was too much of a blur.

They’d found him passed out on the floor in his kitchen.

They were conversing in a language he didn’t understand. Italian maybe, then some Greek. How many goddamn languages did these people know?

A hand on his shoulder and he was being pulled up. “Sébastien, you awake?” Joseph.

He gave a groan to indicate he was alive.

“I’ll get him some water.” Nicholas.

When he was able to open his eyes, he was blinded by the light. It was the middle of the day but he’d somehow thought it was much later.

Joseph was kneeling by his side while Andrea stood over them. The look on her face was so pitiful he almost wanted to tell her to wipe the look off of her face.

Nicholas came to his side and gave him the glass of water. He thanked him before chugging it down. He knew he was far gone when he didn’t notice to how it was different from the vodka.

When Joseph and Nicholas pulled him to his feet Andrea asked if there was anything he was attached to he’d wanted to take.

“Take where?” He frowned at her as Nicholas and Joseph whispered to each other in a language that he couldn’t place. Maybe it was an old language he’d never heard of. Were they old enough for that to be possible?

Andrea sighed. “We gave you time. We let you live with your family but now we’re all you have left. You’re one of us and we’ll make sure you remain safe.”

It was odd to be spoken to like he was younger than he was. Andrea didn’t exactly sound nurturing but there was an air to her words that he couldn’t quite place.

He looked at Nicholas and Joseph who’d stopped their whispers to each other. Joseph was the one to speak first. “It’s really the only option. If we don’t, we’ll be captured and God knows what will happen to us, especially after the enlightenment. We’ll keep you safe, as if you were our little brother.”

It was strange to be referred to in a way by someone who was in technicality nine years his junior. But his eyes were warm and kind like he’d meant each words.

Nicholas gave his own smile. “Like I’d said, I think it’s destiny we’re the way we are. It doesn’t make much sense to not go into this together.”

He looked at the three before giving a final nod. He didn’t have much of anything left.

He’d packed some clothes although they told him it was best to travel lightly, apparently they had several safe houses and they’d only collect more things the longer they lived. He grabbed a photograph of his family, a couple books, and left everything else behind.

They walked for what felt like an hour before they’d arrived at an old cottage on the countryside. It had clearly been abandoned a long time ago as everything was overgrown. The brick was old and he could already feel the dust tickling his nostril.

“It’s not luxury but it works,” Andrea said as she lead him inside while Nicholas and Joseph strayed behind slightly. “We have nicer placers here and there.”

He looked around the main entrance and saw an old couch that was splitting at the seems. He really hoped that wasn’t where he had to sleep. “How many rooms does this place have?”

“Three. Yours is just through there.” She pointed to a door that was by a staircase. “Sheets are a bit old but they work. Me and the boys are just upstairs, me on the left and them on the right.”

He gave her a smile and nodded. He thought about thanking the men for sharing instead of making him sleep on a couch that not even a cat would enjoy.

Instead, he decided to give himself a good nap.

* * *

When he woke up that morning, he dragged himself out of bed and into the kitchen to find Nicholas cooking breakfast. He was humming some sort of tune Sébastien didn’t recognise.

Joseph sat at the small round table, hunched over a pad as his pencil glided over it.

He watched the scene for a few moments. Part of him knew this was as mundane as his life would be from now on.

When he sat down he mumbled his good mornings to the two.

“How’d you sleep?” Joseph asked, looking up from his pad.

“Surprisingly well.”

Nicholas gave a soft laugh. “Well, at least there’s that. Do you like eggs and bacon?”

He gave a soft sigh. “Yes.”

He served him up a plate moments later and set one down for Joseph as well. He stared at Joseph for a few moments before asking a question he really hoped didn’t insult him.

“I thought Muslims didn’t eat pork.”

Joseph didn’t look offended, only offered a smile. “I haven’t kept halal in centuries. Nicholas hasn’t kept with his own practices either.” He shrugged. “We don’t exactly practice our religions much at all anymore.”

“He does forget to eat during Ramadan sometimes though,” Nicholas pointed out as he set his own plate down and sat at the table. “That’s more of a habit. I think I almost gave him a heart attack when I first ate meat during lent.” He shrugged. “I had an easier time letting go because the church used God as an excuse for too many atrocities. We just kind of fell into the belief of a God but not really sure of religion. If that makes sense.”

Joseph nodded. “It’s hard to explain but it makes sense to us. Andrea, she’s from before either of our religions existed. It grants you some perspective. Her people were believing in stories of Greece we deem myths now. We’ll probably live long enough for our religions to fade away to the mythos as well.”

“Who knows, maybe we’ll get to the point where we don’t believe in a God of any sort. But we’re pretty okay with what we believe now.”

“Oh.” Was all he could say in response to the two. Maybe a different perspective was something you’d gained when your world-view was what had caused you to kill someone you became friends with.

Nicholas gave a smile before taking a bite of bacon. “You’d never guess I was a priest.”

He almost chocked on his food. “You were a _what_?”

Joseph laughed, throwing his head back. “He was probably the absolute worst priest out there too.”

“I do not need you to remind me of sins before my death, Yusuf,” Nicholas said but it was entirely playful, a hand over his heart mockingly.

He stared at the two for a few moments. “So what? You don’t think any of our loved ones passed to a better place?”

They looked at each other before they both shrugged. “Can’t really answer that. Maybe there isn’t an afterlife, maybe there is. That’s not a unique idea to Christianity or Islam. What I can say is that we’ve died enough times to know all we’ve seen is darkness. Like we’ve said we don’t have the answers,” Joseph gave a shrug and went back to eating.

Nicholas was watching him, his playful expression entirely gone. “I wish I could say your family went to heaven but I too am unsure. It’s a nice thought but we can never be certain. We can only hold onto memories— and you have your photo of your family. We are much older than the creation of photography. A nice invention, doesn’t require one to have the money for an artist or a skills to make your own. Joseph used to have drawings of his family but they were lost centuries ago.”

He gaped for a moment. “Do you remember them? What they’d looked like? Either of you?”

Both of their expressions softened. Joseph set down his fork before he shook his head. “No. It’s depressing but no. Some days, it takes a moment to remember their names.”

Nicholas had casted his eyes down. “It’s hard. But unavoidable. If we live as long as Andrea has, I worry will lose the memories entirely. I’m already starting to forget the details of my life before Joseph. Even our first century together is starting to fade slightly.”

“Memories are fickle. I feel it’s best to live in the present and hold on to the important things, not what we had been doing in Aleppo or Cairo in the early 1100s,” Joseph said, although it seemed to be more for Nicholas than Sébastien.

He took a breath. “I think what makes it harder is that I don’t have any of my family left. I’m the last of my bloodline as none of my sons had children.”

“None?” Nicholas looked surprised. “Your two eldest never did?”

He shook his head. “No, not my youngest either.”

“Could guess that one, what with his lover Louis.”

He was taken aback at his words. He stared at Nicholas for a few long moments. “How did… how did you know? Louis didn’t tell me until I left the two in the hospital.”

“Was it not obvious?” Joseph asked, a look of genuine surprise.

He frowned at the pair. “You mean… you two knew all along?”

They both looked at him with expressions he couldn’t quite place but he could tell they were at the very least surprised. “Yes. The night we went to the gentlemen’s club or whatever it was. We could tell from how they’d interacted,” Nicholas said, stealing a glance to Joseph clearly wanting his input too.

“Surely you could guess France decriminalising such acts would lead to more people pursuing those sorts of relationships. And he was your youngest son, he would’ve felt less responsibility in the area of continuing the bloodline,” Joseph said as his brows furrowed. “You really didn’t know?”

“He never told me.” His voice was so empty as he said that. Jean-Pierre never told him about something that he’d spent half his short life in.

Nicholas leaned forward and there was something so comforting about the way he did it. “Maybe he thought it was best to tell you in a way that wasn’t completely direct. Maybe he thought you understood on your own. Maybe he was worried about the consequences of telling you outright. If he’d never married and lived with his lover, is that not telling you in some capacity?”

Maybe it was. Or maybe Jean-Pierre simply didn’t know how he’d eventually react. When he saw Jean-Pierre again, the last time he’d ever seen him, he’d admitted to him that Louis had been his lover for twenty years. He’d never told him why he’d never told him. He wished he’d had at least asked why. Maybe then he wouldn’t be in this situation.

“I would’ve still loved him, obviously I would’ve. It’s not as if I would’ve disowned him. I just… I guess we had always been distant in a way. I’d gone off to war when he was young, too young to leave an impact for when I returned. Maybe that had to do with it.”

Joseph only gave a shrug. “We cannot tell you why he’d kept it, only our predictions. Things have changed a lot in seven-hundred years. In some places it’s more approved than it is in others. Some places, it just gets worse depending on who has say. It’s a completely natural thing, much more natural than the state we’re in. It’s not as if it’s an invention of the modern era.”

“It really depends on where you go. People point to Sodom but that was about violating people, not making love in that sort of way. But,” Nicholas gave a shrug. “Too late at this point. People change holy books to fit what they think is correct constantly. It’s another reason we’d strayed away from our respective religions.”

How frank the two spoke about it wasn’t lost on him. He didn’t get a chance to think more about it before Andrea walked in.

He turned red when he realised she was only wearing her undergarments. He looked away quickly while Nicholas and Joseph looked at her like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“You guys aren’t seriously already talking to him about religion,” she grunted and sat at the table after taking a plate from the counter Nicholas must’ve left for her.

The pair smiled, eyes gleaming. “Don’t worry, boss. It was an educational moment,” Joseph said.

“I heard Sodom and got worried.”

“Ah, our friend apparently hadn’t realised his son was engaging with another man,” Nicholas said in a mocking tone.

Andrea snorted. “Seriously? Those two were practically all over each other whenever I saw them.”

“Apparently not around his dear old father,” Joseph said with his own grin.

“Can we please move on? Like to what exactly we’re meant to be doing now? I never fully grasped onto watch exactly you people do.”

Andrea seemed delighted to change the subject.

* * *

A year after they’d left France, they were on an assassination job in the Netherlands.

The target was some kind of human trafficker. It might’ve involved sex or slavery or something else, he wasn’t sure.

In that time, his name had become ‘Booker’. It developed due to his name literally meaning ‘the book’ and the fact he did enjoy reading. Although he hadn’t been able to take most of his books with him. He dreaded the thought of dragging his extensive collection everywhere. Andrea had told him it should be fine if his old home went untouched.

The assassination was taking place at some sort of gala. Booker danced with Andrea to blend in. Ever since he’d officially joined the team he’d been deemed the one to be the fake husband to Andrea as Nicholas didn’t enjoy doing it and they didn’t want to risk racial tensions with Joseph.

“You are much more convincing as her husband,” Nicholas had insisted before they’d even left for the mission. “I’m surprised anyone ever believed me.”

That last part had gotten a good laugh from Joseph. Enough for him to throw his head back, his curls dancing behind him.

The pair had taken it upon themselves to dance too to help blend in, that was his guess at least. The goal was to blend in and get in as close to their target as possible. When Andrea told them to do that, he’d expected them to find their own partner’s to dance with. He had noticed that plenty of women had their eyes on one or both of them. Maybe it was easier to dance so no one could easily recall their faces.

They seemed to be having fun but his focus was more on keeping an eye on the man they were meant to be trying to assassinate. He was on the other side of the room talking to a group of men. Andrea said it would be best to get him alone and get the job done. He was meant to go outside soon to try and sell his captives. The gala itself was to get buyers in without drawing in too much attention.

“I don’t know why they don’t just call it what it is; slavery,” Andrea grumbled to him as they danced, his fake wife eying their target.

He smiled at her. “I guess people like pretending things are something else to lessen the blow?”

“Fucked up it is.”

He couldn’t say he’d disagreed.

The music had slowed down a while ago. Joseph and Nicholas had ceased dancing. Smart. There weren’t any men dancing together currently and they would’ve stuck out, going against the entire plan to blend.

After the song ended, they regrouped in the sidelines. Looking like old friends simply socialising.

“We overheard where and when the selling will take place,” Joseph said, casually drinking a glass of wine.

“I can fetch my rifle and we’ll watch from above,” Nicholas said from his side.

They split up after they’d told them the information they’d been able to get. The plan was to kill the leader and free the captives after threatening his workers. Andrea was apparently a wonderful negotiator and promised the plan should go smoothly.

He looked over his shoulder at Joseph and Nicholas as they weaved through the crowd, barely seeing the way Nicholas put his hand on Joseph’s lower back for a brief moment.

* * *

He wasn’t sure whose idea it was to go to Russia in the dead of winter but he was about ninety-nine per cent sure his apparent friends were fucking with him.

“We really do have a job here, Booker,” Joseph had told him with a laugh. “I’m sorry, we know it’s where you’d died,” he’d added but he’d clearly barely remembered. Not out of cruelty, just that it was probably difficult to keep track of at that point.

This time around, he wasn’t freezing to death or starving in the snow. The three had a safe house in the country as well and they were able to make the place warm too. Nicholas was even able to prepare a hot meal for them.

“It was much more difficult when we were young,” Joseph had said, half way done with a stew from the Maghreb he couldn’t remember the name of but absolutely delighted Joseph. “Nicholas and I, when we weren’t in cities, had to survive on fire and bedrolls.”

“And the warmth of each other eventually. That actually helped a lot,” Nicholas said. “Great way to also not freeze to death during particularity cold nights.”

“We can’t die though,” he reminded them with a hint of a smile.

“Yes but dying that way is awful. Don’t want to go through it again,” Nicholas said and maybe he’d imagined it, but he felt like he saw him shuffle ever to closer to Joseph.

“You know you two are like, teenagers compared to me. You don’t know what I had to go through,” Andrea said over a glass of rum.

He couldn’t help but snort. “What does that make me?”

“A two month old.”

Joseph and Nicholas both laughed, their shoulders brushing together. “Don’t worry, to us you’re more like a teenage brother,” Joseph said.

He glared at them. “That’s no better.”

Nicholas laughed, shaking his head. “We’re all old as shit, that’s the only common ground.”

Booker laughed too. This would never replace his real family but it was nice they were making the effort. He’d decided to let them at least think their efforts were worth something.

He decided to turn in early. The safe house didn’t have bedrooms so they had to use bedrolls. Another thing Nicholas and Joseph loved to remind him was the norm when they were young.

As they all turned in, he noticed how Nicholas and Joseph curled into each other. He’d realised this was the first time he’d slept in the same room as them. He thought about their comment of how it was a way to keep warm. They seemed pretty comfortable around each other and that comment about keeping each other warm definitely applied to how it was snowing outside. The blankets they did have weren’t that warm, enough that they probably wouldn’t freeze to death at least with the help of the house being warm.

* * *

He’d been in the small army for five years when they’d first got captured.

It was in Spain. The Inquisition had only recently ended although there seemed to still be people who took it upon themselves to speak for the church. Nicholas had rambled about how no one could really speak for God and how he was sick of the church it was to still being bent on taking control.

They’d tried to free the people who had been captured, which only resulted in the four of them getting captured themselves. Andrea said they almost never got captured, the problem was that they got ambushed and killed before they knew what was happening.

When they had seen they couldn’t die, they had been taken away to be locked up almost immediately.

They were all chained to the wall. Andrea was grumbling under her breath while Nicholas and Joseph went back and forth in… Arabic, maybe. Those two tended to lean towards their own languages, slipping into something he had yet to understand.

He’d asked Andrea if she could teach him Arabic since she had no shortage of languages. She’d told him no. When he’d asked Nicholas, he’d said Joseph had taught him and wouldn’t be that helpful. When he’d asked Joseph, he’d told him in a lot of the places that spoke Arabic, they also spoke French these days and there would probably soon be no point in learning Arabic if he could use French.

More or less, he’d quickly learned he’d have to teach it himself or not bother at all. His Italian lessons were still going poorly.

Two guards came into their cell, armed with guns. They eyed the four of them before their eyes set on Joseph.

The look on Nicholas’ face when they did that was pure panic.

When they started to approach Joseph, Nicholas snarled at them. Booker wasn’t sure he’d ever seen him so angry.

“Get the fuck away from him!” He said in Spanish, one language he had been able to learn. Nicholas was kicking his feet at them.

That didn’t deter the guards. They went right towards Joseph as if Nicholas was nothing of a threat. He struggled against their grip on him as they undid the chains.

As they started to take him away every moment was full of Nicholas and Joseph’s voices.

“Yusuf! Yusuf! _No_ , hayati!” His voice called as he tugged on the chains, pulling himself to his feet. He could see blood dripping from his wrists but it was as if he hadn’t noticed.

“Nicolò, I’ll be okay. _I promise you_ , Nicolò, I’ll be okay,” Joseph called back but he was lunging forward, only to be pulled back by the guards.

When the cell door closed, it echoed in their small cell.

Nicholas had collapsed to his knees and he could see tears dripping down his face.

The look on Andrea’s face was pure sympathy, maybe even empathy. “Nicholas,” she said and reached a hand to his back as much as she could. _“Nicholas,_ we’ll get him back. I promise you we will.”

“But what if—”

“No what ifs, we’re going to get him back. I’ll even let you hack these assholes to pieces.”

That seemed to calm him down before he nodded, letting out a long breath, coming back to earth. “We have to be ready for the next men that come. Our melee weapons should be close by. I doubt they’d throw them away.”

They sat and waited, although Nicholas was tense the whole way through. He’d known the man to typically have a calm nature. He’d seen him in the sniper position. His focus was unmatched.

That seemed to all go away when Joseph was in danger. He’d have to remind himself to never make the man angry.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when the doors opened again. This time it was only one man, unarmed. Nicholas’ worry seemed to vanish into a blank expression.

They watched as they started to approach Nicholas. He kept his expression calm.

One thing he’d learned about Nicholas and Joseph that was when people were deciding who was more deadly between them, it was always Joseph. Sometimes Nicholas wasn’t seen as a threat at all. That was probably why they’d only sent one guard.

The guard gave him a mocking smile as he came down to his level. “Don’t look so happy to see me. But let’s see how you favour to the wounds. Maybe we’ll see if it works if you inflict them upon each other.”

There was a flash of something in Nicholas’ eyes. When the first cuff was off, it hadn’t even had a chance to clatter to the floor before Nicholas’ hand wrapped around the man’s throat. “Didn’t work the first time, can’t see it working now,” he said, an amused expression on his face before he brought his chained hand forward he snapped his neck.

He took the key and undid the other cuff before tossing it to Andrea. “I’ll go get him.”

He could only stare as Nicholas as he left the cell and there was the sound of him picking up what was probably his sword.

“Hey, focus,” Andrea said as she took off her cuffs, tossing the key to him.

“Shouldn’t we help him?”

“Trust me, he doesn’t need our help. Might be therapeutic to hack into these assholes.” She had a big amused grin on her face as she said it. She stood up and stretched her arms over her head. “Now come on, lets get out of here before they lock the door on us again.”

They left the cell, picking up Andrea and Joseph’s melee weapons from where they had been left outside the cell. He’d assumed it’d be difficult to find where Joseph was but he’d realised quickly that wouldn’t be the case. Not with the blood splatters and bodies that almost pointed them into the direction like an arrow.

Yeah, he should definitely never make him angry.

He and Andrea followed the blood to a room on the other side of the building. The more they followed the blood and bodies, the more they came across.

“Remember, he’s teetering onto eight-hundred,” Andrea said, an amused smile on her lips as he looked in shocked. “This isn’t even his all.”

If he ever saw his all, God have mercy on that person’s soul.

When they finally found where the carnage lead, Nicholas hadn’t even finished the job. The were still three men he was fighting off although he put up a fight masterfully. Even if he’d had a weapon, he could see he wouldn’t need to intervene.

A slit to the throat.

A stab in the stomach, finishing it off with a twist.

A lash to a leg before it came down onto the head.

When the last man fell, he dropped his sword as his attention turned back to Joseph.

Joseph had been tired to a table. Andrea seemed to have found the keys to the cuffs and tossed them to Nicholas who frantically moved to unlock him.

The clothes Joseph wore were covered in blood, some of it had clearly been burnt. He didn’t want to even think of what they had done to him.

He helped Joseph sit up as he stared wide eyed at Nicholas. “Are you okay?”

“Forget about me, are _you_ okay?” Nicholas said, a look of desperation on his face. He was covered in so much blood. Part of him knew that not a drop of it was his own.

Joseph’s expression softened. “Always, ya amar,” he said and wiped the blood off of his mouth. “Always.”

Before Booker had even a second to process their words, the two leaned into each other and there lips met in the middle.

He gaped at them and he was grateful they were too wrapped up in each other to notice. They kissed in such a tender way that it felt too intimate to watch. Or maybe it was just so much because he’d never seen two men kiss each other. He’d certainly never expected to see these two men in particular kiss each other.

From the corner of his eye, he could see Andrea watching him. “You didn’t know, did you?”

He pulled his eyes away from them, the two now pressing their foreheads together as they whispered to each other. Andrea had a look of genuine surprise on her face.

He shook his head. “No, I… they never said.”

“They thought you knew. You never saw anything in your dreams about us?”

He shook his head. All the dreams had all but faded from memory by now. He still dreamed of the drowning woman but he still hadn’t told them about that. “I… I guess I never noticed. This is the first time I’ve seen them… like this.”

“That’s more of them subtly hiding it out of habit. But they’re not that affectionate in front of others to begin with. Other than when they sleep, which you’ve seen them do.”

“I thought they were just trying to keep warm,” he muttered under his breath. But he realised how much sense this all made. The way they didn’t need words to communicate. The way they fought together. The way they always knew where the other was in battle. The smiles and touches.

Knowing about Jean-Pierre…

“They were together before we met. Saw a lot of it happen in my dreams,” she gave a small laugh. “I’d thought they’d never get around to tell each other how they felt.”

“How long did it take?”

“A year, maybe two. Close enough to when they’d met that it doesn’t really matter about the difference.”

Over seven hundred years… that sounded impossible. But so what the inability to die.

When he looked back at them, he saw Nicholas helping Joseph to his feet. Andrea tossed him his scimitar when he found his balance. “Come on you two, we still have people to free. Nicholas definitely killed anyone who’d get in our way.”

Joseph absolutely beamed. “Takes me back to when he’d first killed for me.”

Nicholas laughed and pushed Joseph’s curls out of his face. “Well what was I meant to do? Just let them torture you?” He looked back at him and Andrea. “Let’s go.”

He didn’t hold back a fond smile. It definitely made sense now that he knew.

* * *

When they had returned to the safe house, Nicholas and Joseph went to bathe. He’d watched as Joseph had a hand on Nicholas’ hip, both of them looking absolutely exhausted.

He settled himself on the old couch, mostly trying to relax. He still had to bathe himself. It took a lot out of you to be captured.

Nicholas and Joseph returned an hour after they’d left to bathe. Nicholas said he’d get a start on dinner. He’d noticed his tendency to make sure make sure they’re all always well fed.

He tried not to stare at the two. He’d spent the last five years with them and it was still processing the fact they’re lovers.

Now part of him was asking himself how he’d missed it. Between the small smiles, the touches, the terms of endearment…

“How are you holding up?” Joseph asked, leaving Nicholas’ side and sitting with him on the couch.

He frowned. “Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?”

He gave a wave. “I’ve been through worse, I’ll be fine.”

“He’s lying, he just doesn’t want to worry anyone,” Nicholas said from the counter, already cutting potatoes.

“You can help heal my emotional wounds later, hayati,” he said, turning his head to his lover, eyes almost twinkling.

Andrea gave a snort from where she sat in the armchair. “I can’t believe you two act like this constantly and it took Booker seeing you tonguing each other to realise you’re a couple.”

Both of their eyes shot to him. “Wait, you didn’t know?” Joseph asked.

“Not even a little?” Nicholas said with a hint of a smile.

He threw his hands in the air. “I don’t know, I thought the two of you were just really close after seven-hundred years! I’m not a mind reader.”

“It should’ve taken a lot less than today to have seen it,” Nicholas said. “We thought you knew but were stil letting go of previous convictions, hence toning down the affection.”

Joseph gave a small laugh. “Although I guess you didn’t realise you own son was in love with another man so maybe we assumed wrong.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re really going to hold that one against me too?”

“Yes.”

Nicholas laughed. “Your son figured it out on his own. He’d asked how we went about living our lives together but I think he also in a sense saw us as hope things would be okay for him too.”

Jean-Pierre never knew the others couldn’t die either. He wondered what elaborate lie they had made up about how they’d met and lived together.

“Maybe it did.”

Andrea rolled her eyes, clearly bored. “Well now that we’ve got that settled, go bathe, Book. You reek.”

He probably did. He nodded and stood up, leaving the three in the kitchen. He snuck a glance behind him and saw how Joseph had all but plastered himself behind Nicholas, kissing his cheek with a loud smack.

Something told him he’d never be as happy as those two had been for the past seven centuries.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments always appreciated.


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